I am Medusa
by MoonstoneGoddess
Summary: Medusa... the girl who fell in misguided love with a god. The girl who became the most frightening monster in Greece. The girl who had everything ripped from her because of the gods' petty fighting. The girl who everyone remembers as a terror and not the horrified, grieved young woman who was in too deep.
1. An Evening

The beach is one of my favourite places ever.

Of course I never have seen it, but I have seen paintings.

Once I thought I would leave Athens for a short time and go to somewhere where I could see the sea. But that can never happen now I am a priestess of Athena. I have to stay in Athens, close to the temple.

Not that I am sorry about it in any way. Not at all!

How could I be?

My life is as good as can be. I am happy living in the temple. The girls are my friends- we are all servants of Athena together. We burn sacrifices together, we pray together- Athena is part of our life, woven into us like a golden thread in a grey blanket. We are the only ones who understand that this is not a sacrifice, that it is no loss, but a blessing. We are chosen by Athena, led here by the Fates, and our lives are a privilege.

Not only do us girls of Athena have our duties during the day, there are also the evenings.

Now the evenings are brilliant!

We girls have the best time known to man then. Music, dancing, art… men think that they are braver and cleverer than women? Never would they think that if they could see what we do! We write, we dance, we play, we listen, we think. Too little people do this nowadays. But we do. Such is the way of goddesses like Athena.

Me, I like weaving.

At this moment Philomel calls me. "Medusa! Come. Come and weave with me."

I shake my head and smile, though my fingers are itching. I feel like I should help the girls cooking in the kitchens. It is hard work cooking for the twenty women in this small temple of Athena.

That is what my sisters are doing. I feel that I should be as good a person as my sisters are, though it is hard. Sthenno and Euryale are the dearest, kindest, goodest sisters there ever were.

But Philomel is stubborn- though in such a sweet way that she does not seem it. "Come on, Medusa!" she entreats me. "You know you love doing it, and you do it beautifully too. Athena herself is the goddess of weaving. Think of it as another duty that must be done. Please!"

I sit down in the wooden seat beside her, laughing. "I never can argue with you, can I?"

"No!" she teases delightedly.

I reach for a bit of white thread.

I love everything about weaving- spending almost infinite time positioning the threads exactly where I want them, trying to make a picture with them. Then I move the shuttle and an image forms. Small tapestries are my specialty, but I sometimes make the clothes for the girls.

My last work is still on the loom. I resume it, fiddling with the cords that have slipped out of place and adding a little bit of thread where I have missed it before.

I take a breath. Shuttle, shuttle, shuttle- and the image is so good I can't tear my eyes away. How can it be that I am capable of this?

"That is the most beautiful thing I have ever seen!" Philomel cries. "How did you do it, Medusa?"

"I don't know." I cannot believe I could create this.

On my little tapestry satyrs dance, their hands linked. The fire inside the circle almost seems to flicker. They have their furry legs kicked out in front of them, and they look so happy. The fire sends long shadows behind them. Their hooves and horns glint in the light.

"It is amazing! You must be blessed by Athena." Philomel declares. "It makes me want to sing."

Sthenno, who has come up behind us, smiles. "Why not?"

My face creases as I beam at them, thrilled that anything I could make can do this. "Let us dance like satyrs!" I announce.

There is a scramble as several girls, who were listening, reach for things or crawl off their beds. Thekla, the best musician of all of us, takes her lyre and puts her fingers on the strings. Other women join hands, laughing. Thekla begins to pluck out a tune.

It rambles, it soars, and as the music fills our hearts, we begin to move.

Around and around, our legs kicking. Philomel begins to sing- a song without words. The tune glides above us, so it seems like Thekla's lyre and Philomel's pure voice are one. Sometimes I think that musicians have a higher soul than the rest of us. Perhaps all musicians- even the nightingales and the little songbirds that flit about the temple.

And we all dance, my friends, my sisters and I, by candlelight in our dark room.

I am happy.


	2. A Vision

**Just a disclaimer- I did little to no research on this fanfiction, it was just for fun, so this is not an accurate portrayal of life on an Athenian temple, just how I imagined it. However I am being absolutely faithful to the Medusa story that I know.**

* * *

The gongs sound in the morning. So do the songbirds, their voices smooth as water and sweet like honey. I sigh, remembering the dancing and merriness of the last night.

I rise quickly and slip a simple white _chiton_ over my head. My hair is long, curly and reddish-brown. I twist it quickly to get it out of my face and tie it with a strip of fabric.

Around me friends are preparing for the day. Philomel is rubbing the sleep out of her eyes with her fists, Thekla is busily repairing a broken lyre string, and my sisters Sthenno and Euryale are playing a little clapping game like children. I smile.

I quickly walk to the main part of the tiny temple. It may be small and we may have very little visitors that come to worship here, but still we take pride in the appearance of the temple. Down the almost hidden stairs to the kitchen- where the cooking women are busily preparing the first meal of the day- baking bread and making jam from figs. A more elaborate meal is being prepared too- cooked bread, wheat not barley like ours, a stick of olives, a small slice of cooked fish from the coast, and a honey cake. This is the food that will be burned as an offering for Athena.

I take a knife and go out the back, into the little secret garden, where we grow flowers, and cut the stalks of several. They are lovely narcissi, with petals that glow golden like the sun. I slice their stalks and then take them and lay them at the foot of the statue, on the altar. Brushing a little dust off the statue, I feel an electric pricking at my fingertips. Perhaps it is the influence of the goddess.

Smiling, I turn away and run back to the sleeping room. Sthenno catches my hand. "Come! Let us pray at the statue. Where were you?"

"I was dusting the statue and putting narcissi there." I say.

"What would the war and wisdom goddess want with narcissi?" Euryale, my other sister, laughs.

"I think she appreciates the beauty of the world just the same," I smile, and pull them both towards the main part.

Eventually, all twenty girls, plus the five cooks, are kneeling in front of the statue, our heads bowed, praying.

I suddenly think of a painting I once saw, of the sea. The waves crashed on the sand, frothing white, and the sand was as golden as the narcissi flowers I picked. I pray that I will one day see the sea.

A shiver runs through me, as well as slight pain. I would be able to bear it were it not for the vision I see when I blink- a terrible fanged monster with writhing snakes for hair, and the Moirai snipping a thread. I scream out loud and fall against the marble floor.

"NO!" I howl.

Euryale grabs hold of my arm and tugs me out of the temple area. "What ails you?" she demands with worried eyes.

Sthenno is following us. "Why did you scream like that, Medusa?" she asks reproachfully.

"I…" I shake my head. "I saw…"

"What?" Euryale urges. "What happened?"

"What on earth possessed you?" Sthenno challenges me forcefully.

I shake my head. I saw the Fates. I saw the monster. I saw… "It's nothing." I mutter. "I am fine now."

"Are you unwell?" Euryale inquired anxiously.

"Why did you do that, Medusa?" Sthenno blurts. "You…"

"Stop, Sthenno. Leave her be." Euryale tells her, putting an arm around my shoulder. "Why don't you go back to the prayer hour. I will stay with Medusa."

"But…" Sthenno is not convinced. She is very religious and I can see she thinks we should all go back.

"It is settled, Sthenno." Euryale says firmly. "I will see to Medusa. I believe she is ill."

Sthenno turns and walks back to the temple.

"I am fine now." I repeat.

Euryale still stays with me. After a time I can see her fingers fiddling. Euryale is not of the sort that likes to be idle. She reaches up and pulls my messy coil of hair undone, letting my curls fall about my shoulders, and I think of snakes.

I sit still as a stone as she twines my thatch of hair into a neater twist than it was and ties the cloth around it. Then she sits and leans her head on my shoulder, her pale green eyes closing. She is completely at ease.

But I sit distressed and fretful, my throat choking up with butterflies, thinking of snakes.


End file.
